Subjects
by lostmidtranslation
Summary: This is a series of little Katie-Olivers, with each subject/Extra-curricular as a setting. a little bit will-they-wont-they... though i think we know... Rated T for language across chapters, will probably change...
1. Quidditch Practise

**Heyy! - Set of Katie-Oliver's, please R&R**

**Disclaimer: It's all JK's. If it was mine... how i'd meddle, but sadly, it's all JK Rowling's.**

**Enjoy, my readers, and please, review!**

--

1.

Quidditch Practice

I sit on the bench in the changing room, staring at the mud on my Wellington boots. It's about an inch thick on each side, and I groan as I brush at them weakly. It's not shifting.

"I honestly can't believe him." Angelina says from the showers somewhere to my right. "I'm soaked from my head to my waist, and caked in mud from my stomach to my toes." Alicia giggles. There's a thud, a splash, and she shouts out.

"Oi! Ange, that hurt!"

"Well. No need to laugh. You have mud on your face. And not good mud, either."

"But throwing soap…" I switch off. _Every practise. _Every single practise is ending like this now. Covered in inch thick mud and soaked to the skin. We girls are thinking of resigning, or at least boycotting practice for a few weeks. Oliver would murder us in our beds though… well, he wouldn't, but we wouldn't want to sleep for a few nights... just in case.

"Katie!!" Angelina appears, wrapped in a pink towel, "You've had your shower, can you go and give Wood a piece of our minds?"

"I would, but I don't think he'd know what to do with them." She nods appreciatively, "But I'll go yell at him for a bit."

"Thank you." She grins and points at my wellies, "When you get back, I'll clean them."

"No… there's no need, honestly. I wanna kill him as well."

"But you're gonna get the flack for it." I shrug as she cocks her head, "You don't mind, do you?" I shrug nonchalantly again, and she stares at me, confused.

"I think I'm beyond caring." And slowly, realisation dawns on her face, "You want off the team?" Disbelief crosses her face.

"Course not. I want him to think I want off the team." I disappear from the benches and go across to the boys changing rooms.

Fred answers the door in his boxers and I grin at him.

"Alright Fred?" He nods.

"You want a word with Wood?" He's a frigging mind reader sometimes.

"Why else would I be here?" He lets me pass and I rearrange my face into a scowl. "Oliver?!" I yell into the showers. The far cubicle squeaks and Oliver appears, wrapped in a towel.

"Bell? What do you want?" I've never been able to resist a Scottish accent, but I'm getting better. I fold my arms and lean on the doorframe in Oliver's path. "Your face is telling me that you're tired, cold, muddy and sick of early morning practice? Anywhere close?"

"Your towel's fallen down." I say simply, irritated that he's second-guessed me. He freaks out and panics, not actually looking down to see that the towel was still there. I turn and walk out of the shower block and sit down on the bench, folding my arms. "Wood," I shout back at him, "I am _sick_ of getting up at three in the morning, without breakfast, getting back to the castle, absolutely bloody soaked rotten, and covered in mud, and getting no gratitude from you at all." I rub my eyes and stand up, feeling the tears burn at them as I realise it. "I'm going to give it some thought, but if conditions from you don't improve… Oliver, I _need_ sleep." And I get up and walk out. Fred grins at me and I flash him a smile, but my heart sinks as Oliver doesn't try and stop me. Until-

"I'm sorry, Katie." he says, catching up with me, still with the towel around his waist.

"Oliver, saying it and doing things are two different ideals." and I push the girls door open. He follows me.

"_OLIVER!"_ The three of us shriek aloud. He stops in his tracks. The door slams in his face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps through the door, "Seriously." We ladies share a look. Oliver Wood, sorry? _Right. _"Seriously, Katie. I didn't know you felt that way."

"What way, Oliver?" I'm suddenly interested in the direction of this conversation.

"Felt like I wasn't giving you enough gratitude." I nod at the closed door, then realise that he can't see me. Opening it ever so slightly, then, as Angelina and Alicia pull bathrobes around themselves, opening it wide, I lean on the doorframe again and watch him watch me for about three minutes. "I really am sorry." He says eventually. I'm glad he's found a spine… well, no, that's harsh. I'm glad he has the balls to come and apologise to us like a man. Apologise to _me _like a man, I mean.

"Well good. Maybe now you'll start… letting us have lay ins, or something."

"Yeah, maybe." He grins and I look at him. "You'll be a formidable woman, Katie Bell."

"Thank you." I say, slightly confused, "I think."

--

**A/N Well, this was Quidditch Practise, and so, to potions. **

**Hope you enjoyed, again, and please R&R, i'm very lonely )**

**xx**


	2. Potions

**DISCLAIMER: It's STILL JK ROWLING's**

**T****his is Oliver's POV. I think I kind of forgot to mention it will switch. I'll let you know at the beginning of each chapter...**

**Enjoy!**

**--**

Potions

She groans as she leans against the stone walls, then shivers and stands up straight again.

"Katie... I was just wondering-" I start, but am silenced by the giant black cloud which swoops above the eight people in the line for class. Snape swoops past and Katie hurries in behind Roger Davies, takes her usual seat at the front of the class and pulls her glasses from her pocket and places them delicately on her face. I like those glasses. They're completely distracting – they change colour according to her mood, and at this precise moment, they're bright purple. Snape's had this argument with her before, but she simply refuses to buy another set of frames.

"Miss Bell, I refuse to allow such... distracting accessories," which he spits with the utmost venom, "In my classroom."

"Well, professor, I can't exactly stay at one mood, can I?" She says, then crouches over her bag and mutters something else, "Or right now, they'd be black, just like your heart, _oh Caped One_."

"Five points from Gryffindor, for being an irritation to the lesson, Bell." She bristles, but sits and holds her potions textbook on her lap politely.

I sit down beside her, for a second, she looks up at me, staring, confused, then smiled and nodded.

"Alright Oliver? What di-"

"Silence!" Snape half-shouts, but we're only talking in whispers. "Today you will be working on..." But I lose concentration as Katie takes to staring into the cauldron and sighing sadly. To be honest, I don't even know what I agreed to this morning. She was talking and talking, but I lost myself in her voice, in her eyes. I just nodded blindly and agreed to her every wish.

I couldn't afford to lose my best... my best chaser, I suppose. I mean, that's the only reason she was shouting at me, Quidditch. that's all she ever talks to me about. Well, no, she asks me about homework sometimes too, and I'd like to think that to her, I could be more than the captain, more... maybe I want to be more than a friend. I don't honestly know.

"Oliver!" She hisses, "Stop daydreaming about Quidditch plays." Her Irish accent is audible across the room and there's a small pause as Snape takes another point from Gryffindor. A couple of minutes of me staring blankly at the cauldron before me, and thankfully Snape leaves the room and the silence is broken by a classwide sigh of relief. "Page Two-hundred and Seven." She rolls her eyes at me and half-laughs, before attending to the fire which had extinguished itself beneath her cauldron.

--

Twenty minutes later, I sit, simply staring at my potion. Why is it always mine that goes wrong? Katie's next to me, hers is shimmering and steaming gently, like it's supposed to, mine is on the verge of going _kaboom!, _or some such onomatopoeic noise.

Snape sweeps around and nods appreciatively at Katie's potion, for once, a murmur of "five points to Gryffindor" can be heard if you strain your ears hard enough. He may hate her with a passion, but he appreciates good potions skills when he sees them. Then he looks at mine and blanches paler than usual. He almost waves it away with his wand, but he sneers at me and flares his nostrils.

"Fix that, Oliver Wood," He spits my name with such sarcasm, such hatred, that I suddenly fear for my life. It doesn't help that he's holding his wand out at me. "And I'll donate twenty points to Gryffindor. Turn in that mess at the end of the lesson and I'll drop you fifty." Then he sweeps out of the classroom to get something for Roger Davies, muttering something about 'having brains and yet not enough common sense to refill his potions kit'.

"Oliver," Katie says from the corner of her pretty mouth, watching the door in case the 'caped one' returns, "Put these into the centre of your potion and stir it three times counter clockwise." She puts three little pebbles I recognise as hedgehog nails onto the bench between us and bends to her bag.

I do it. Because she's the only one who can help me now, and she's the best at potions I know. There's a horrific moment where I think it's not worked and the goo turns a shocking shade of pink. I elbow her, but she makes a gesture for me to wait and see.

I start as the pink suddenly shrinks and turns the shimmering silver it should. No steam, though. Katie looks at me and touches her mouth in a shushing gesture, then, tight-lipped, she leans forward and opens her mouth ever so slightly. She breathes cold air onto the surface of my potion and it steams like it's supposed to.

I don't know why I didn't think of that.

"Thank you." I whisper as I brush past her at the end of the lesson and hand in my stoppered phial of potion. She shrugs and gathers her things, leaving the classroom as Snape dismisses us.

Snape picks up my potion as I go to leave the classroom, looks at it and a look of horror crosses his face for a fantastic half-second.

"Twenty points to Gryffindor, I suppose." he says silkily, and I nod and run.

_For that, Katie Bell, I'll limit my team talk to ten minutes next practise... bloody hell, if this carries on much longer, there'll be no practise left._

_--_

**A/N Hey! Hope you Enjoyed! **

**Oh! I think I've created an AU by mistake! Oh Noes!! This will need to be updated ASAP, or confusion may ensue! **

**Please R&R, and now we go to... you'll see (Or maybe you already know?) **


	3. Divination

**DISCLAIMER: It's STILL JK ROWLING's**

**(Cool runnings is also not mine)**

**This is from Katie's POV!**

**Enjoy! **

--

Divination

"Tell me what you see!" and I'm struck with the memory of a film I saw in the summer. Cool Runnings. Divination is hardly that. The room is hardly cool (it must be at least thirty degrees in here), but I'll admit, the mere thought of this cheap subject makes me want to start running.

There are six of us in the NEWT class. I only took it as an extra option. I'm into healing, so I picked Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Defence against the Dark Arts and this. McGonagall suggested that because of my aptitude at Potions (what, where did that come from? I think I've only aced one test Snape's set us in six years,), I took another, less taxing subject. So I took this. It was my only option, really – Charms was full, but professor Flitwick said he was trying to set up a N.E.W.T-Level club, and I was never good at Arithmancy or Ancient Runes. Muggle Studies was pointless, because of my half-Magic-half-Muggle parents... so here I am. Sweating in this stuffy, horrible, incense-filled room.

"B-but professor, there _is _nothing." I hear from Leanne, who is sitting sadly behind me. "What are we supposed to be looking _for?_"

"Use your inner eye!" Trelawney yelps and I close my eyes and allow the fumes to send me daydreaming.

I was doing so well, as well – a nice snooze, thinking about Quidditch (a quirk which I am sure Oliver has passed onto me), and shooting past my captain on my brand-new Nimbus 1992. It's neither as fast as Potter's Firebolt, nor as good-looking as the Nimbus 2000 that he used to have, but it's easily the second-fastest broom on the team. Sadly, however, the good things never last. I feel a nudge in my ribs and Trelawney is suddenly standing over me like a demented praying mantis. I half-shriek, before remembering where I am, and look up at her, trying to be the picture of innocence.

Failing almost immediately, and deciding I don't want two rows in two lessons, I pick up my things, hand her back my textbook and stride from the classroom, leaving her staring and Leanne giggling loudly. She's silenced almost immediately by the bug-eyed stare of my freakish ex-teacher, and I wave jovially as I leave via the trapdoor.

Typically clumsy, I lose my footing and land on my arse at the bottom of the ladder. I close my eyes to ensure nobody saw me. I use the same principle every accident – if I can't see you, you clearly can't see me, and so, obviously, nothing happened.

"Surprised you didn't see that coming." A Scottish accent says from somewhere above me.

"Ha-ha," I say without opening my eyes, "I'll have you know, that it's a crap subject, and I just walked out," He grins and holds out his hand to help me up, "never to return." I say as soon as I get to my feet, adding a little stupid, supposedly spooky movement as I speak.

Why, oh why do I always do something stupid in front of Oliver? I don't know whether it's because I can't handle a human conversation with him without giggling or what, but I'm sure it's starting to get obvious.

He laughs and joins me as I walk down the spiral staircase.

"What were you doing up there, anyway, Oliver?" I ask as I pick a spot beneath a tree by the lake and sit down on my cloak. He joins me and shrugs. "You don't know? Or are you just avoiding telling me?" I grin.

"Was a bit lonely, knew you had divination, was going to wait and then have lunch with you." there's a small pause.

"You, waiting for me?" I say with a little confusion. "Why didn't you go to the common room and find, like, Matt or Cullen?"

"They have..." He wastes a second trying to remember. "Something." really convincing, that.

"You just wanted to be with me." I tease. "You love me!" and for a half-second, I hope he's going to concur, to agree and tell me he does. Yeah, right, like that's going to happen.

"I only love you when you score seven goals in six minutes." That happened in my first game. I was lucky, and I was running on adrenaline, but I did it.

"So you loved me once." He blushes pink, and I realise I have to save him before his face catches fire. "I'm joking! Joking, Oliver."

"I know." He says, in that ridiculous tone that tells me he thought I was being serious.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I stop and lean back against the tree. He watches me for a few moments, his gaze intense and his eyes focused on my face. "Oliver?" I start, he jolts back to the present and smiles at me. "You were staring."

"Was I?" He smiles blandly and stands up. "I think I hear the lunch bell." and without another word, he leaves me sitting on my cloak, all alone, and strides off to the castle.

Ten minutes later, I'm still wondering what on Earth has just happened, when I hear the lunch bell ring clearly out across the grounds.

_That lying git! I jump up and run back to the castle, desperate to find my Quidditch Captain, and to punch his lights out. _

--

**A/N - Hope you enjoyed again!! **

**Katie's getting suspicious now, how long will it be before one of them cracks? **

**We're definitely in an AU now!**

**R&R if you have time!**

**xxx**


	4. Lunch

**DISCLAIMER: It's STILL JK ROWLING's**

**Back to Oliver's POV!**

**Enjoy! **

--

Lunch

She finds me in the Great Hall, sipping my Pumpkin Juice, staring helplessly at my Muggle Studies homework, and half-reclining on the bench seat. She sits down opposite me and throws her books down with a loud _slam! _It jerks me from my panicked confusion and I look up at her with a smile.

"Oliver. Wood." She says, both loudly and angrily.

Three Ravenclaws, a Slytherin and about thirty-five Hufflepuffs turn to look at us. She flushes pink and leans forward, lowering her voice.

"Wood." She hisses, her face not exactly the picture of amusement it was half an hour ago. "You, are a total liar." Folding her arms, she mimics me.

"Oh." I frown, playing the confusion card. Well… it's not exactly playing the card, it's more… total and utter confusion. "What's this about?"

"The lunch bell."

"Katie, that was a joke." a short, awkward silence ensues.

"OK, maybe I'm being a bit harsh, but still! You left me." She says with a little sadness in her voice, then, playing my sense of chivalry, "Who _knows_ what could have happened?" There's a small pause and she starts to laugh.

"Katie, what are you on?"

"A bench." She says jovially, "Give me your homework, you look confused." She stares at the essay title for a few moments, and then looks down onto the parchment, expecting an essay to be sitting there, in glistening ink. "Where _is_ it?"

"You're holding it."

"This is a _title_."

"I know." She looks at me with a face that demands an explanation. "I don't… exactly…" I look at her, she knows what is coming next, but is waiting for me to say the words. I bite my lip and look up at her. "Help me." I murmur.

"_You_, Oliver Wood, need _my _help?" She says, loud enough for the Hufflepuffs to hear. The look at me, and I see Cedric Diggory pull a face that makes me feel about two inches tall.

"Shut up!" I beg, she turns around and sees Cedric's expression, sighs and pouts as though her fun has been ruined, but scratches some notes down with my borrowed quill. "Look, I'm really sorry for lying to you, alright, and I probably shouldn't have left you by the lake."

"Hmm?" She doesn't look up, just keeps scrawling notes down. "And?"

"I'm a generally crap person?" I'm looking for the right way to win her back, muttering random compliments. "You're pretty-" Oh, shit! "-good with the Quaffle?"

"Well saved, Oliver," George and Fred slide in either side of my blonde, Irish chaser, she leans forward and puts her head tiredly on the table. "Wouldn't want to, you know, bring up her self-esteem or anything." There's a small pause, "Of course, we think you're beautiful, Katie."

"What do you want me to test now?" She says without raising her head.

"Nothing." Fred smiles evilly, "But… we would like you to _try_…" he reaches into his bag, but suddenly I have had enough. Not when I've seen her sick, unable to move, and rendered totally helpless by their stupid concoctions before.

"No." I interrupt. The twins look at me, shocked, and Katie raises her head far enough for me to see her grateful smile.

"Why not, Lord Quidditch?" One of them pouts. "What gives you the right to tell her what to do?"

"I'm concerned for her health."

"Yeah, right." The other says.

"She's not eaten, the last time you made her do something like that, she was throwing up for an hour and a half," I stop, "And… it's just not very nice. Go hire some first years or something."

They look at each other, then, as though their minds have clicked simultaneously.

"_Brilliant_!" They grab a loaf of bread and walk away.

Katie looks at me, a small smile playing about her lips, then her eyes close for an eternity and she sighs.

"Thank you." She murmurs. I miss the next part of her sentence, so feel compelled to lean forward and ask her to repeat herself. "I said, _Thank you, I've been trying to get them to stop for ages._"

"No problem." She looks at me and smiles again, handing me a page of points and notes for a perfect Muggle Studies essay, "Thanks." and she blushes bright pink.

"Think of it as making us even. No more twins for me, and your professor off your back. No problems." with a distant look at the concrete wall behind me; she rises and manages to half-trip over the bench, gathers her things and walks away.

This would be the moment to go after her, to catch her and say what I wanted to say before Potions this morning. But I never know with Katie. If there was an obvious sign, like her mooning over a picture of me in the common room or something, but with Katie, you never know, and it's not worth trying it just to be shot down.

I wouldn't want to hurt her.

--

A/N: Multiple updates today! I'm impressed with myself! Although this one was winging it a bit – I didn't think about putting a lunch session in until I'd practically written it into the last chapter!

Thanks to all of you who've reviewed, it's much appreciated – I like to know I'm getting out to people, and that you're enjoying it

Please R&R, and so to... Oliver's "Favourite" lesson

xx


	5. Transfiguration

**DISCLAIMER: It's STILL JK ROWLING's**

**This is from Katie's POV!**

**Enjoy! **

--

Transfiguration

Oliver is late again. To be honest, it's hardly a surprise – McGonagall is not his favourite teacher, Transfiguration a subject he hasn't enjoyed for six years. In his first lesson he managed to get twenty house points taken away, and a detention. It was funny in hindsight, but not at the time.

I take my seat at the back of the classroom and try to appear invisible by building a book wall around me, staring at the pages intently.

"Miss Bell, your homework?" Professor McGonagall appears and removes the book I was staring at.

"Uh... about that, professor-" Oliver strides through the door, sullen faced. "Oliver's late." I try to change the subject as hopefully as possible.

"Where is your homework, Miss Bell?" She repeats. I look at Oliver; he had borrowed it yesterday afternoon to 'compare' our ideas.

"Uh..." He looks at me and realises he's still got it.

"Katie, I found your homework... it was on the table in the common room." He says, producing it from his textbook with a small flourish. "I couldn't find you earlier..." McGonagall snatches it from his grasp and looks it over, clearly disbelieving our story.

"Thanks, Oliver..." I say, then, looking up at our frowning professor with what I hope is a grateful smile, "It's alright, right?" She nods curtly and turns to Oliver.

"Mr Wood?" A small moment of silence where he shrugs. "No homework, Oliver?"

"No, I've done it... I just don't know where it is." That's a lie if ever I've heard one. Oliver doesn't do transfiguration homework, if he can avoid it, only took the class because all of the other Gryffindors were taking it this year, and he couldn't stand sharing a free period with Cedric Diggory or Roger Davies – there would be fights, and lots of them.

"Well, Mr Wood, as I'm in a good mood this afternoon," Is she? Is she really though? Because I can't see a hint of a smile _anywhere. _"You can hand it to me at dinner."

She stalks to the front of the classroom and instructs us to partner up. Oliver looks over at Matt and Cullen hopefully, they are sitting together already, he won't get any joy there, and then at Leanne, who is staring intently at Stuart Buxton, and waiting for him to notice her. He does and pulls her to her feet, leaving the last two non-partnered Gryffindors (for Alicia and Lauren have partnered up too), sitting, waiting for the other to move.

"Mr Wood, would you be so kind as to _move_ before we all grow old?" McGonagall says, he folds his arms and reluctantly shifts his arse to join me at the back of the room. "Now, as I was saying,"

"Thanks for the homework save, Ollie," I whisper as he stands opposite me. He nods and spins his wand between his fingers, Alicia giggles and nudges Leanne.

"How cool is that?" She whispers.

"Miss Spinnet? Do you have something to say?" McGonagall appears beside her and she blushes, looking everywhere but at the teacher.

"Nothing professor."

"Good. Then you'll have no problems doing what I've asked you to."

There is an extended, uncomfortable pause where Alicia doesn't know what to do and only Oliver has the good grace to do what he's been told. He points his wand at me and suddenly I'm not five-foot-six any more. In fact, I think I might be a table. I'm not sure - it's hard to figure out how you've been transfigured when you are something without eyes.

"Good work, Mr Wood. Nice glass decoration," Wow, I actually can't cope with this. What will this achieve? Seriously, I mean… turning me into a table! It's hardly necessary. "I think you can change her back now." A few seconds pause and I'm me again, collapsed in a heap on the floor.

"Katie, are you-" I look at him, and suddenly feel sick. Without a word, I race from the classroom and burst into the nearest bathroom.

When I return, a couple of minutes later, I stand, embarrassed, holding the door open for Cullen and Leanne as they burst past me, about to throw up too.

"As I mentioned earlier, there are several uncomfortable side-effects to _unexpected_ transfiguration, which is why I _asked_ you to _tell_ the person immediately prior to their enchantment." McGonagall is saying to the remaining students. Oliver smiles as I take my place opposite him again, and I fold my arms, suddenly embarrassed.

I wave my wand, turn him into a broomstick, check McGonagall's reaction, and turn him back. He is awfully pale, but he manages to stay on his feet and grin at me.

"Are you OK, Katie?" He says softly as we retake our seats. "You still look a bit… ill."

"I'm alright, thanks, Oliver." He rests a hand on my shoulder, squeezes it gently, my face burns as he turns away and sits back down at the front of the classroom. I move slightly so I can see the back of his head and smile sadly.

Sighing, and resting my head on the table again, I fold my arms across my chest and put my hand on my shoulder where he touched it. That's the only physical contact I have had with Oliver that hasn't been linked with Quidditch for an age. It's sad, really, that it matters so much, but to me… it really, really does.

--

**A/N – Oh! Poor Katie! I feel really sorry for her!**

**Hope you enjoyed it, and thanks to all of you who've reviewed and said so. )**

**R&R if you have time**

**xx**


	6. Muggle Studies

**DICSLAIMER: Gosh, i wish i was JK Rowling. But i'm not. (**

**Oliver's POV! Sorry it kind of runs away from the lesson, i wrote it in a free today )**

**Enjoy!!**

--

Muggle Studies

I sit down and watch my half-finished essay float down towards the front of the classroom, it gathers itself in a scroll and I know I am totally buggered. I mean, it's not like I've not done the best I can with Katie's notes. It's just that it won't be enough, I mean, her notes were more than brilliant, but I couldn't get it all down in just twenty-five minutes at lunch.

She's an absolute life-saver, her lists of notes about Muggle life have saved my reputation in lessons several times, Sarah Morgan and Cedric Diggory have sat looking confused whilst I've reliably informed the class about "Telephones," "Football," and "G.C.S.E's and A-Levels," Drawing direct parallels with our O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts. Even Professor Franchitti said she was impressed with my extensive knowledge.

Even though it was all Katie. I kind of miss her in these lessons – they are totally boring and full of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and poor old me in the background, waiting for the lesson to end so I can escape, and fast.

A small voice interrupts my thoughts, as somebody comes in through the door.

"How can I-"

"We need Wood, professor." I turn, jumping at the mention of my name. It's the twins, standing in the doorway looking sheepish. "There's been an issue with the broom cupboard and Madame Hooch wants to talk to him, seeing as we were the last team to use them." She nods curtly and allows me to leave.

Half an hour later, I'm sitting in the sun by the Quidditch pitch not doing much at all. George and Fred are sitting under the hoops, doing less than I am – I think they've fallen asleep, to be honest, but Madame Hooch is nowhere to be seen.

"Oi, Fred!" I shout towards them and one of them sits up and looks at me.

"Yeah?"

"Where's Madame Hooch?" He shrugs.

"Teaching first years, I suppose." A voice says behind me, I twist and look to see who they are. "So she believed them, then?" Katie takes a seat beside me, throwing her bag down and swearing as the clip breaks and her books spill out of the main compartment.

"Here, let me." I lean forward and pick up the books, shoving them back into her bag for her. She yanks the bag from my grasp and blushes, waving her wand over it to fix it.

"You never answered my question." with a small smile she looks away at the twins, who have decided the sun is not their friend, and are making their way back towards the castle. "She bought it?"

"Bought what?" A pause, "You mean… Hooch isn't coming?" She folds her arms and looks at me as if I'm stupid. Which, as it stands, is quite apt. "Am I missing something?"

"When does Hooch give first years flying lessons?" She says, stretching out on the grass.

"Wednesday afternoons." I reply reflexively.

"What day and time is it?" she murmurs lazily, closing her eyes and pursing her lips in a half whistle.

"Wednesday," I check my watch, "Half one."

"Ergo…" She says, then whistles a tune I don't recongise.

"Ergo… Hooch isn't turning up."

"Oh! Well done Oliver Wood!" She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Let me offer you a round of applause." A single clap rings around the empty pitch and I sigh. "What, too hard to compute?"

"Hmm." Suddenly, I'm not in the mood for her to take the piss out of me. "Well, yeah. Fletchitt bought it." I say, an edge of irritation creeping into my voice. "Why?"

"Because it was my idea." She says, opening her eyes and staring into the cloudless sky. I rocket up to my feet.

"Your idea?" I half-yell. She scrambles away from me, confused. "I-I mean thank you, but… your idea? Katie, you'll get in so much trouble…"

"No I wont." She grinned widely and held out her hand for me to help her up. I take it and pull her to her feet. She dusts herself down and looks away.

"What, no, I mean… if you get caught-"

"I wont. Fred and George have agreed to take the blame." Her voice weakens and she blushes bright pink. She knows I know they wouldn't do that. No way. Not without getting something out of it for themselves…

"What did you take?" I say suddenly, knowing she'll have succumbed to one of Fred and George's pills or sweets to get me out of a lesson.

"One of their fainting fancies." She mutters, flushing bright pink. It takes all I can not to slap her.

"Bloody hell, Katie!" I say angrily, "I told them earlier to back off from you! Don't… Katie, please don't do this to me."

"Do what?" She says defensively.

"Take that… _stuff_." She blushes, "Katie, it's not safe."

"They've tested it on some first years." She blushes darker and I hear her sniff. "It looked alright."

"Katie… please don't…" I start again. She turns away but I catch her wrist and make her face me. "You can't do this to yourself. Did it make you sick?"

"No." She breathes, her eyes looking everywhere but at me. Her face flushes pink again and she reaches up to wipe her eyes. "Not yet."

"Katie… please, tell me you won't take any more of whatever they've got." She looks away.

"What's it to you?" She says, defensive but hesitant at the same time. "What do you care?"

I look to the left slightly, what's the answer to that? Do I open my mouth and tell her she's to valuable to see hurt, that I care for her too much to see her throw up again and again because her body's allergic to whatever they've put into the sweets? Or do I simply sit there, smiling and tell her that I don't want to see her hurt?

I don't have to reply. She just stares at me when I don't speak, mouths the words again and, horrified, walks away, shaking her head.

--

**A/N Haha, awww!! I don't know what happened! Katie's gone crazy on Fainting Fancies and Oliver's trying to tell her... he... hmmm... oh, how will he say it?? **

**Please R&R, I'm really enjoying reading your thoughts ) **


	7. Dinner

**DISCLAIMER: It's still all JK Rowling's (and boy, am I jealous!)**

**Katie's POV!**

**Enjoy!**

--

Dinner

Tonight, dinner is uncomfortable, awkward to say the least. I take a seat at the end of the house table, close to the doors to the entrance hall, trying to avoid Oliver's uncertain gaze from halfway down the Hall. He has not spoken to me for two hours, I ran to the girl's bathroom on the third floor, he, I assume, retired to the common room to work on the newest set of Quidditch plays.

I don't want to eat. There's nothing here that is appealing to me at the moment, chicken, rice, mashed potato, even those mint humbugs aren't looking good. It's so out of character for me… I mean normally I'm on my second portion by now; tonight I've barely touched the roast beef on the table before me.

A note lands on the table beside my pumpkin juice, folded in a pretty shape. I look around and make sure nobody is looking, catch Oliver gazing at me again, clearly concerned, then open the piece of parchment warily.

_Katie, _

_I didn't mean to shout at you. I didn't mean to hurt you earlier. It was out of line, I know you can make your own decisions, but… I don't want to see you hurt… I don't want to lose you… Can we talk later? _

_Oliver. _

I look back up. He's determinedly avoiding my eye now, staring into the piece of pork he has drowned in gravy. I scribble a small reply and get up, shoving my plate away and tapping the parchment to return to sender.

Gathering my bag and striding from the hall, I walk straight into Cedric Diggory, smile awkwardly and try to step past him. He blocks my path.

"Hey, Katie…" He starts, but I shove past him with more strength than I know I have and run up the main stairway, then, stride back to the common room, sit down in my dorm room and put my head in my hands.

My stomach hurts, and at first, I think it is because of the Fainting Fancies, but when I've returned from the bathroom, after chucking my guts up, I realise that hollow feeling remains.

For the first time in my six-year education here, I really wish I could see my mum and ask her for help, because I don't understand what's going on. One minute I hate him, the next I want to sit with him, have fun and relax, just be with him forever and then I hate him again, for making me feel all these emotions.

I heard Granger say something to Weasley about having the emotional range of a teaspoon a couple of months ago. I think that pretty much covers it. I've got the whole kitchen, and right now, the blender is on and it's twisting me every which way.

"Bloody Hell!" I groan as my stomach churns again and I run to the girls loos again. When I return, I just sit on my bed and cry.

"Katie?" A soft voice, Alicia, pulls my curtain back at about twenty past nine. "Are you alright?"

"Hmm…" I whisper, trying to turn my face away.

"Wh-what's wrong?" She says, seeing I have been crying and immediately assuming the worst. "Who did you fight with? Oliver?"

Why is she so insightful? She is about as superficial as a graze on my elbow, but… she can be damn smart sometimes.

"Yeah." I breathe.

"I figured. He was looking for you. In the common room." She says, putting her arms around me and conjuring a box of tissues. I gratefully take one and blow my nose, then expend the rest wiping my eyes. "He seemed really worried… I think he really likes you, Katie."

"No." I shake my head, "If he did… he would have said something." I say, but I rise anyway, waste precious minutes pulling my pyjamas on, and slowly make my way down to the common room, half expecting it to be empty.

No such luck.

"I've got toast." He says as I sit down on the sofa next to him. He offers it, but I don't take it.

"I'm alright." I mutter, not quite meeting his eye.

"Yeah, alright." He curls his fingers around my shoulder and gently runs his hand down my upper arm, rubbing it… affectionately? Consolingly perhaps. "I want you to eat something, Katie." He says, "I know you've been sick."

"I haven't-" I start to argue but realise that it's probably not a good idea to. "I know."

"I figured… after last time, you'll want something dry, so I went to the kitchens, and-" he offers the toast again and I take it, suddenly grateful.

"Thank you." He leans forward and gently cups my face with his hand. My heart must start to race, he must hear it, but he never seems to notice me. He never seems to notice what I'm feeling. Is it that hard to see?

"I didn't mean to shout at you." He says, looking into my eyes. I'm screaming for him to realise, to understand. "I… was out of line. It was your choice, and I should have been grateful for you getting me out of lesson." I close my eyes, breathe out, then lean forward, and hug him.

"Thank you." I murmur into his shirt. I could stay here _all_ _day_. And I mean that seriously. He rubs my back gently, "And I'm really sorry for saying you didn't care." I say as I pull away.

"You know I do. You know I'd be lost without you." he winks and I am suddenly reading deep into his words. "Who else would listen to my Quidditch plays for hours on end?"

I smile widely, but inside, I'm sure I'm crying.

--

**A/N: Poor Katie! I'm feeling really bad for her now! **

**... And so onwards to another day...**

**Hope you enjoyed it?!**

**Please R&R!**

**xxx**


	8. Breakfast

**DISCLAIMER: It's Still JK Rowling's. I wish it was mine... still, it's not.**

**Oliver's POV. **

**I think they're going slowly mad!**

**Enjoy!**

--

Breakfast

"Oliver?" The voice startles me from my dreams, but I don't exactly recognise it.

I groan, stretching in bed, and then falling out by spectacularly tripping over the duvet and hitting the floor hard with my face.

"Argh!" I grunt and try to get up, hearing laughter from somewhere above me and to my left. "Cullen?" he stops laughing and I hear muffled, girlish giggles. It could only be one person. "Alicia Spinnet as well?" I offer, and then feel a hand pull me up by the scuff of my pyjamas.

"Morning Oliver." She says jovially as she pulls me into a sitting position. "How'd it go with Katie?" I frown and she reads my expression right. "That bad, eh?"

"Hmm." Cullen shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "You really need to open your eyes, Ollie."

"What?" I look at him. "Open my eyes… what do you mean?"

"I mean go and say you fancy the pants off her, you arse." He says, and then pulls the red velvet curtain back around his four-poster. For a minute, Alicia stares at me, confused, and then he pokes his head from the split between the curtains and grins. "I'm not ignoring you guys; I just need lots of sleep to be as bubbly and happy as I usually am."

"Oookay…" Alicia says, then looks back at me. "Get up. I do not have time for this. Katie's really ill this morning." What?! My heart starts to race and I jump to my feet as fast as humanly possible.

"Ill?! What do you mean?"

"I mean she's throwing up and everything. What did you give her last night?" Me? _Me? _WOAH! Not my fault at all.

"She told you I gave her something?"

"Yeah. Said you brought her dinner." A pause. "Well?"

"I bought toast up from the kitchens. _Dry _toast. Don't blame me."

"Well, what's she eaten then?" She argues defensively. "Go on, Lord Quidditch, tell me."

"She ate some of Fred and George's… stuff." I spit as though it is a disgusting taste in my mouth. "I told her not to… but she did it for me."

"Why? I can't believe her." She folds her arms and looks at me for an explanation. I shrug. "Maybe she did it to prove something to you…" She muses aloud, then, suddenly, "Get dressed. We're going to breakfast."

She is sitting alone at the far end of the table, hunched over, staring at the bowl of cereal in front of her. Alicia nudges me and I look at her, confused.

"Go and talk to her." She says softly, and I slowly make my way down the table and sit opposite her. She looks up at me, a half smile crossing her face and a blush to match the embarrassment I'm feeling.

"Morning." I murmur as she stares back at the cereal before her.

"morning." She replies. "I-I'm not really in the mood to talk." She says softly.

"Katie… I think I'm really worried about you."

Hang on. Let's just… take that and look at it. I _think_ I'm really worried about you? Oliver James Theodore Wood, you are a human failure. A complete and utter prat, for want of a better word. Do you not understand that you _**are **_worried about the girl in front of you? That she's tearing your heart in half by not telling you what's wrong? Why she's doing all of this?

"You _think_… you _think_?" She says weakly, then leans forward and takes my wrist. "Oliver, you _think_ you're worried about me. I think even thinking about being worried qualifies as concern." She stands up, awkward and clearly unable to hold herself up.

I grip her arm and scramble around the end of the table, then take her under one arm and half-carry, half-drag her back to the common room.

"I feel really sick." She murmurs, standing woozily for a second, then shakes on her feet and her knees buckle. I catch her under the arms again, and she collapses against me.

"Katie… Kat, wake up…" I fly into a panic as she doesn't respond. I lift her from the ground, into my arms, and carry her up to my dorm room, laying her on my bed delicately. "Please… Katie, wake up…" I brush the hair from her face. She's cold and sweating, but as I go to get a blanket to pull over her, to keep her warm, she blinks her eyes open and looks at me intensely.

"How did I get up here?" She breathes.

"I brought you up here. You fainted." I reply, not interested in telling her how worried I was.

"You… you brought me up here?" Her voice shakes, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "B-but Oliver…"

"I was properly scared for you." I blurt, "I thought something… awful had happened, that you… we-weren't going to w-wake up." I swallow loudly, sure she can hear my heart pounding.

She smiles back and reaches up to touch my cheek, her thumb grazing across it gently. Affectionately? Gratefully, maybe.

"I'm going to go to the Hospital Wing." She says weakly, I help her up to her feet and curl my hand around her wrist.

"Come on then," I murmur, "I'll give you a hand."

--

**A/N: Oh, This wasn't a good one! **

**Still I hope you enjoyed? **

**PLEASE, PLEASE, R&R. I like people's opinions!**

**Xx**


	9. Herbology

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters or settings. This was all JK Rowling's marvellous idea.**

**Katie's POV!**

**Enjoy**

--

Herbology

I return from the Hospital Wing about halfway into the lesson. Madame Pomfrey said she hadn't seen anything like this before. It's like the muggle flu, with food poisoning rolled into it, and it's all because of those little fainting fancies I took to pacify the twins.

I think Oliver wants to kill them. It's gone beyond a joke now, him protecting me like a brother. If he's that worried about me, why won't he just come out and say it. If he likes me, I'd love to know.

"Katie!" Alicia calls after me, and I slow down to let her catch up. She has a free now, having not taken Herbology, and so is standing in the entrance hall, waiting for Evan Florent to declare his love to her or some such. He's a Hufflepuff, close to Cedric Diggory - not my favourite person, so I try my best to avoid him, but she's totally fallen for him. You can't choose who you fall for.

"Alright Lycia?" I smile and indicate I should be on my way to the Greenhouses.

"Yeah. You look ill. Have you been to the Hospital Wing?" I nod.

"Oliver took me." I blush and look at the floor. "I kind… of passed out in his arms." She looks like she's going to shriek the castle down, she's that excited.

"You're actually joking?! You kissed him? He hugged you, what?"

"He brought me back up to the common room to get our stuff for Herbology and I collapsed. He didn't snog me. He didn't hug me. He just … picked me up and put me to bed."

"No way!" She giggles at a pitch higher than microphone feedback. "You have to tell me later. Seriously…" She pauses, "But you're better now!" She smiles, noticing Evan standing awkwardly at the bottom of the grand staircase, books in hand, "I'll see you later!" and she flees from my presence happily, leaving me standing there, staring, blinking occasionally, and wondering what universe I've just stepped into.

--

I knock on the door of Greenhouse Four politely. Seconds later, a muddy Ravenclaw I recognise as Emily Mistry opens the door, smiles and lets me pass.

"Professor Sprout?" I say, she looks up at me from helping Cullen trim a swearing shrub into an acceptable shape, and showing him how to prevent it from reforming into another rude word as soon as their backs were turned.

"Oh, Miss Bell… I trust you're feeling better? Madame Pomfrey fixed you up and all that?"

"Yes professor. Uh… what can I do?"

"Over there." She gestures vaguely and I assume I'll be feeding the Carnivorous Chrysanthemums. I move to pick up the bucket of food but somebody grabs my arm. I turn to face them, and almost laugh at the distorted vision of Oliver with a Bubble Head Charm encasing his head. He indicates I should mirror him, and as I wave my wand, he pulls me into the next greenhouse chamber.

"What're we…" He smiles and indicates the plant in the centre of the room, simultaneously pressing a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.

"Watch." As the bulbous orange plant shifted in the tiny draft created by the door closing, it ballooned in shape and belched out a cloud of red smoke, which Oliver leaned forward to catch on a big silver tray.

"What is… it?" I say, for want of a better word.

"A belching blower plant." He says, "It spews that powder… you bottle it and dissolve it."

"What does it do?"

"it's essentially a truth potion when you've dissolved it." He says, pulling his textbook open at page three hundred and twenty four, then directing my gaze at the picture. "Lasts about ten minutes a mouthful if you dissovle a flat teaspoon into water. But we can't inhale the powder… or we'll start telling the truth. And not subtly, either."

"Right." I say, no longer interested in the potions and lotions you could make from the plant in front of me. "I-Thanks for earlier, Ollie." I murmur, putting our bubbles close together to let us speak privately.

"I just did what any…" and for some reason, he sighs, "What any friend would do."

"Thanks. I know a lot of people who wouldn't, you know?" He nods sadly, but I grin back and he hands me the textbook, blushing.

"It's alright, Katie." He murmurs, pulling at the bubble between his fingers nervously.

"No, it's not. I've been really stupid… I mean yesterday I was a right cow to you, and it's not fair, and I'm really, really sorry." He curls his hand around mine and pulls it up to his eye line, to save him talking directly to my face.

"Listen, Katie, I know you've done some stuff for me, recently - fixed my potion, got me out of Muggle Studies, and…"

"Managed to piss you ff by directly going against what you said by taking some of George and Fred's concoctions and making myself ill, when I knew it would make me ill and it's made it worse and strained our relationship and that's not a good thing, because you're more than my best friend and I'd never want to lose what we have together because… well… because I need you."

His eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything. I think I've said enough, which makes me feel immediately awful.

"Oliver… I-"

"Don't apologise." He breathes, picking up his textbook from my lap and closing it with a snap. The sound seems to shake us both from the trance we're in.

Oh, God, what have I done?

--

**A/N: Oh dear me. I think I've broken Katie's brain! )**

**Hope you enjoyed?! Please let me know**

**Reviews appreciated!**

**xx**


	10. Defence Against The Dark Arts

**DISCLAIMER: PLACES, PEOPLE AND SETTINGS YOU RECOGNISE weren't my inventions.**

**Two things: **

**Oliver's POV!**

**Kaitlyn is poetic licence. Nobody ever uses her full name, and I like Katie to be Irish, so I'm using a somewhat Gaelic name. **

**Oh! And ENJOY!!**

--

Defence Against the Dark Arts 

I practically run from the greenhouses and into the castle, determined to avoid the end of that conversation. When I reach the classroom, I throw myself down at the desk in the front of the classroom and take my book out, staring down into it.

Umbridge sits down at her desk, taps the blackboard and the words appear, "Chapter 37, Page 342"

"You have your instructions. There will be…" She stops as there is a small knock at the door. Upon opening it, she stands to allow Katie into the room. For a second, she stands at the front of the classroom, then, "Miss Bell, before we all…" Katie shoots her a look and strides to the back of the classroom, pausing as she drops her books by accident, right beside my desk. I crouch down to help her, she leans away and gathers her books, folding her arms across them and blushing.

"Hem-hem." Umbridge clears her throat and Katie straightens up, determinedly avoiding my eye.

"Sorry professor." She says as she takes her seat in the back of the class, opens her book and Umbridge restarts her sentence.

"There will be no need to talk." A pause, "And two points from Gryffindor for Katherine being late and disturbing the lesson." I stop scribbling notes and turn to look at Katie. She sinks low in her seat and blushes red.

"It's Kaitlyn." I say reflexively.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wood?" I look down and focus on my book. "Mr. Wood, you had something to say?" Umbridge says, stepping forward to look at me.

"No professor." I stutter, looking away from her and suddenly caught with the urge to laugh. I think it's just the ridiculousness of the situation. Surely she knows Katie isn't Katherine? It must be on the register.

"But Mr. Wood, I distinctly heard your voice."

"Oh, Professor, please, he was just telling you my name's not Katherine." Her voice comes out quickly and angrily. "It's Kaitlyn." She finishes weakly, realising she's in serious trouble.

"Katie, why did you have to-" Cullen pulls her back into her seat, as she's stood to talk, to use her height advantage over the four-foot-eight Professor Umbridge.

"Oh, Miss Bell," Umbridge says sweetly, "I didn't realise. I'm sorry." And simultaneously, our mouths fall open and we all stare at the toad-woman, confused. "I guess you can explain such an interesting name in detention." She stares at me for a second, "You too, Wood."

"But Professor-" Cullen says, confused, "You got her name wrong… is she not allowed-aargh!" He receives an elbow in the ribs from Katie, and a grateful smile, but it's too late for him as well.

"Three of you. _Detention_!" She roars, scarily for someone so small, "Tonight! Lines, in here at Eight!"

Katie gulps audibly and gets her head down, and starts to scrawl notes like there's no tomorrow. Cullen matches her frantic scribbling, but I don't feel like working any longer. She smiles when _he_ defends her. I hate her. So much. But then… I look at her, her dark blonde hair cast messily across her bright blue eyes, swept back into a loose bun. Bloody hell. She's gorgeous, and… I want to be with her. Why do I hate her so much, for confusing me and for… making me think all these things, do all these stupid things…

Bloody hell.

Come the end of lesson, my mind us suitably distressed, I have taken no notes and I'm feeling rotten, I think I might be jealous of Cullen. I mean… she sits with him; she grins and laughs, and talks to him and… everything.

She stands beside him as we all line up opposite Umbridge's desk, her hand tight around her textbook.

"Now, the three of you, I'm taking ten points from Gryffindor, each, and I want you all here at eight o'clock sharp for detention. You will not need to bring anything with you." There's a small pause and she smirks evilly. "Not even a quill." a pause, "Dismissed."

We file out and Katie waits for the door to close before taking one look at Cullen and snorting with laughter.

"What's so funny?" I round on her, and she backs off immediately, her laughter abating instantly.

"Hey, step off, mate. She's only panicking." Cullen says, holding out his arm to keep us apart. "Come on."

"Yeah, right. She finds this funny," I turn to her, "Don't you?"

"Oliver!" She says, genuinely hurt, "How could you say that?" she turns away and after a few seconds, I hear a sniff. "You know I-" But the tears come before she can speak aloud. Cullen shoots me a furious look and goes after her, puts and arm around her and rubs her shoulder kindly. They walk down the corridor together, he prises her textbook from her hands and carries it for her, she shoves him playfully a little further down the hall, and I hear slightly choked laughter.

And suddenly, it hits me. I hate _him_. That's it. I've decided. If he wants her too… it's war.

**--**

**A/N: Lots of new things in this chapter: Oliver's Overreactions, Cullen, Kaitlyn - not Katherine… it's a whole load of random… and I hope you enjoyed!**

**Oh, or if you've read previously and enjoyed, I'd love to know!**

**So R&R, people, it makes me happy!!**

**xxx**


	11. Charms Club

**DISCLAIMER: PLACES, PEOPLE AND SETTINGS YOU RECOGNISE weren't my inventions.**

**Katie's POV**

**ENJOY!!**

--

Charms Club

After lunch, Cullen and I sit in the back of professor Flitwick's class, playing exploding snap until he comes in, looking hurried.

"Katie, Mr. Bailey? You're early for Charms Club." He says simply.

"Yes, professor… we weren't really sure what time you wanted us to… turn up." Cullen supplies, before I start confessing about not being able to face the world.

"Thanks." I murmur. He shrugs and puts the card back in his bag. I rub my hands together, suddenly cold, and smell the gunpowder on them. It's comforting, I suppose, makes me think of my Quidditch locker, sandwiched between the Weasleys, their robes on either side of mine, reeking of explosives and other powders. Quidditch makes me think of Oliver, and I sigh.

"Well, if you give me five minutes, I think we can start…" He drifts off into his office, leaving Cullen and I standing awkwardly by his desk.

"You alright Kat?" I hear in my ear. Cullen is looking at me, concern etched across his features, "Is it Oliver?"

"Why is everyone better at this than me?" I say, suddenly angry that everyone knows more than I do about my own life, "Come on, tell me what you'd do."

"I-I don't know!" He stutters, "I've never been in your situation… in love with someone, I mean." That makes me snap.

"What makes you think I love him?" I shout. Professor Flitwick ducks his head into the room and gives me a confused look. "Not you, Professor, Oliver Wood." He half-nods and disappears again. Before I speak again, I make sure to lower my voice. "_Well_?"

"Are you that blind? Oh, come on, Kat, even I can see it." He says, shaking his head. "You're mad, you."

"Oh, thanks. And suppose you're perfectly sane?" He does not answer, just shrugs and sits back on the desk. I resist that urge to shout '_men'_ at the top of my voice and stride out of the room, which is lucky, I suppose, because at that second, in walks the bane of my life.

"Is this where Charms Club is?" I look up at the familiar accent and immediately look back down at my bag. He's got to be fucking joking.

"Yes, Oliver." I say, curling my hands into fists and cracking my thumb knuckles. "Why? Do you need to see Professor Flitwick?"

"No, actually, I was going to join. Not many people here, really, are there?" He says nonchalantly, dumping his bag next to mine and rifling through it for his charms book. I look across at Cullen, giving him that face that says _'was it you who invited him?' _He shakes his head at me, clearly panicked, and moves further across the room. I shake my head hopelessly and sit down on one of the desks.

"No, Oliver. There aren't many here… _yet_." He nods and sits on the desk next to me. I want to yell at him to move, but at the same time, despite the awkwardness of the situation, I'm comfortable.

In the space of the first ten minutes of the session, about fifteen people come in and sit down, abandon outer cloaks and schoolbags, and we sit in a large group, and listen to Flitwick turn us into Charms addicts.

"So, basically, this course sets out to give you a good grounding in the more advanced stages of charms, I want to teach you exactly what it means to charm something or someone, and the purpose of charms in everyday life." He hands a sheet of parchment to each of us and tells us to partner up and have a go at some of them. Immediately, I search out somebody who is neither Cullen nor Oliver, as I don't think I can face either of them. I find that I'm left with a choice of three people. Cedric Diggory, Oliver Wood or Cullen Bailey.

Against my better judgement, it has to be the Hufflepuff.

He looks so happy to see me, it's a little terrifying, but it is my chance to - literally - charm the pants off him.

Two well cast spells later, and his jeans are hanging six feet in the air, out of his awkward reach. He dare not let go of his outer cloak, for fear of showing his flowery boxer shorts, but if he doesn't release the fabric, he'll never reach the jeans floating above him. Admittedly, I am impressed with myself, they're two tough spells to be able to cast, and my lack of charms practise should be showing, but I am doing rather well, even if I do say so myself.

Taunting Cedric for a few minutes makes me grin, takes my mind off Oliver for those precious seconds.

Until I hear that Scottish brogue, shouting charms at a rate of seven per second. Cullen goes from severe happiness (a cheering charm), to incredible depression, to innate confusion, to tap-dancing, an impressive samba, and then suddenly, he's hanging upside down.

I'm just staring, open mouthed. What is he doing to him? They're best friends… what's Cullen done to…

Then it hits me. Oliver's taking his frustration out on Cullen, because he's been really nice to me all afternoon - not that he isn't usually, but he's been… extra-nice, I suppose. I have to step in, but there's no gap in the stream of spells now speeding back and forth - for Cullen has found his voice suddenly, and is giving as good (or better) as he gets.

That's it. I've had enough. I cast a shield charm around myself and step between them.

"That's enough." I look at Oliver and hold out my wand. "You hex him again, and I'll disintegrate you." there's enough anger in my voice for him to believe me and slowly lower his wand.

"If that's what you want." He spits, malice lacing his words.

"You were my friend this morning." I say softly, suddenly keen to know what went wrong. "What have I done?"

He looks at me, and I know, in my heart of hearts, that he can't, or won't tell me. And strange as it may sound, it makes me feel sick to know it.

"I-I…"He stutters, but I realise I don't want to know.

"I'm going back to the common room." I sigh. "Thanks professor." I pick up my bag and walk away; half-hoping he's going to follow me.

When I reach the Fat Lady, and realise nobody's come after me, I push through the portrait, put my books back in the trunk at the end of my bed and lay down, waiting for eight o'clock to come around.

--

**A/N… oh dear. **

**That wasn't quite War, but… oh, I'll let Oliver explain in the next chapter…**

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Please R&R, it makes me grin like a… happy thing, I suppose**

**xxx**


	12. Detention

**DISCLAIMER: Places, people and things you recognise were invented by JK Rowling.**

**Oliver's POV! **

**Enjoy!!**

--

Detention

She is sitting outside the classroom, arms folded, head down when I arrive. She doesn't even look up, simply grunts an acknowledgement to my existence, and moves over to let me lean against the wall.

"What's your problem?" I say huffily, she looks up at me, clearly aghast.

"My problem?" She echoes incredulously. "My-" Then she shakes her head and looks back at the floor. "Nothing, Oliver." And I sigh.

Cullen joins us about thirty seconds later, helps her to her feet and pulls her into a short conversation of which I am clearly not a bloody part. She giggles as he releases her, catches me looking and silences herself immediately. As we move to file into the room when Umbridge appears, Cullen grabs my arm and forces a slip of parchment into my hand, presses a finger to his lips and follows Katie into the classroom. I glance at it, but don't read a word of the glistening ink, then fold it carefully, stuff it into my pocket and hurry into the classroom after the pair.

Umbridge stands in front of us as we take our seats across the back row of the classroom, nods as we settle, and then trundles to her desk and searches in the top right hand drawer. Eventually, she straightens up and holds out three black quills. I sneak a glance at Katie; she looks petrified, obviously unsure of what is going to happen. As I take the quill and go to dip it into the inkwell, I realise there is no ink in the bottle.

"Professor," I raise my hand and look at her. She smiles sweetly and comes closer.

"Start writing, you two!" she shouts at Cullen and Katie. "The lines are on top of your parchment." Then, looking at me, "What's wrong, Mr. Wood?"

"No Ink pro-" But I stop dead when Katie whimpers in pain. Instinctively I turn to look at her, seeing Cullen looking worried too. "Kat, you alright?"

"Ye-I… it's nothing." She whispers and continues to write, in ink that is so red it looks like blood. Cullen lifts his quill and begins to scribble as well, wincing suddenly, but not saying a word.

"Mr. Wood. Please commence writing your lines. Ink or not, they will be written." Umbridge says, seemingly sweet but with a lacing of malice about as poisonous as arsenic.

"Yes Professor." And I look down at my sheet of parchment, see the words "Chivalry is dead," and start to write them down, as slowly and tiredly as possible.

That soon changes. With every slow-written letter comes a burning pain across the back of my hand. I turn it over and see the blood dripping from it and down my wrist, the words I have written appearing, carved in my handwriting, on the back of my hand, then disappearing, leaving only drops of blood behind. Katie is writing quickly and silently, ignoring the pain that's so obvious on the back of her hand. I can barely make out the words she is writing - "I must not answer back."

The words she's been given make me smile into my parchment, Katie not answering back is like chocolate not melting when you heat it. Totally unheard of.

Cullen is using the same work ethic as Katie; for once, he is working quickly and quietly, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself shouting out in pain. His eyes are screwed up, seemingly in concentration, but as he shifts his hand to adjust his grip on the quill, he winces harder. His blood is creating a pool on the parchment, glistening brightly and trickling over the words as he scrawls them. The back of his hand is starting to read "Chivalry is Dead" too, I can see the scratches becoming clearer as the seconds pass.

"Mr. Wood. You are not writing." I start in my chair as Umbridge sneaks up behind me and says the words in my ear. "Why are you not writing?"

"Hand cramp, professor." I say quietly, then flex my fingers again and begin to scribble silently.

A few minutes later, Umbridge summons Katie up to her desk, makes her hold out her hand and takes it to inspect minutely. There is a moment as Umbridge looks pleased with herself and allows Katie to get up and leave.

"Miss Bell?" She calls after her, "I won't expect you tomorrow evening, however, know that if you ever speak to me in the way you did this afternoon, you will be back in this classroom, writing more lines."

I look over at Cullen; he is staring at me, clearly confused. I know it's bad, but I don't really feel guilty for earlier. OK, so maybe I went a bit over the top, trying to charm the hell out of him - he is my best friend, maybe I should have given him a chance to explain, but still, Katie… Katie makes me defy all logic. When I think about her, I want to… punch a wall, because she doesn't get all the signals I am sending to her, and because she starts to confuse me with all those "I need You"s and "I don't want to lose You"s. Then again, I want to sit down with her, to hold her hand and just talk for hours and hours.

Suddenly, Umbridge summons both Cullen and I to her desk, we stand awkwardly and offer her hands without her having to say a word.

"Mr. Bailey," She takes his hand and traces the letters that lay there. Involuntarily, Cullen shudders, and nearly wrenches his hand from her grip. There is a second where I think she's going to send him back to his seat and write a new set of lines _- I must not recoil from my professors _- but she smiles sweetly and allows him to leave.

"Mr. Wood." She says, gripping my hand and repeating the same movement over the words. It hurts even more as she squeezes the flesh around it, "Your hand appears to be taking quite a shine to those words. Perhaps you will think twice before being so rude again. Dismissed."

I nearly run from the classroom, my hand still dripping blood. I wrap it in my cloak sleeve and start off towards the common room. About halfway up the stairs, I remember the piece of parchment I stuffed in my pocket. Carefully, making sure I don't catch my hand, I pull it from my pocket and unfurl it.

_Oliver, _

_ I am really sorry I got you detention, it's hardly fair. I promise I'll make it up to you next practise, by doing extra laps or something. I'll maybe see you at breakfast tomorrow, I don't know if I'll want to talk… I'm sorry._

_Sorry for everything, _

_ Kaitlyn. _

For a few seconds, I don't understand. Who is Kaitlyn and why is she writing me letters? Then I realise, and it hurts.

Katie has to become someone else to talk to me. I've alienated my best friend in less than twenty-four hours. I fold the letter back into my pocket and sigh, increasing my pace and groaning as my hand aches again.

I have to fix this.

_--_

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed again!?**

**I think Oliver's got to do something soon - Katie might go crazy!**

**Please R&R!!**

**xx**


	13. Gryffindor Common Room

**DISCLAIMER: Places, people and things you recognise were invented by JK Rowling.**

**Katie's POV! **

**Enjoy!!**

--

Common Room

I am sitting in the most comfortable armchair, soaking my hand in essence of Murtlap. Alicia got the idea from Lee Jordan and the twins, who had, as a threesome, been subjected to a similar, painful punishment.

Cullen caught up with me when I reached the sixth floor landing, showing me the state of his hand. He is sitting opposite me, his hand in a bowl of the same solution, a third bowl on the table, waiting for Oliver to stick his hand in it.

"Do you think he read what I wrote?" I murmur, trying to break the horrid, heavy silence. Cullen shrugs and brushes his hair from his face one-handed.

"Maybe. I gave it to him; he probably torched it with his wand the second I couldn't see." I nod and pick up that piece of parchment professor Flitwick handed us earlier.

"So, how many spells did he hit you with?" I say, knowing if I don't broach the subject, it will never be said.

"Thirty one." He goes pink and sinks lower in the armchair. "I suppose… I kind of deserved it." He sighs and lifts his hand from the Murtlap. I gesture for him to put it back in, but he towels it off and looks at the scar on his right hand. "Chivalry is dead," he mutters, and then half-laughs. "Yeah."

"What? Cullen… I don't get you." My mind is either not functioning, or deciding to deliberately confuse me.

"Kat… don't you see?" And he proceeds to tell me exactly what I have been blind to. "These past few weeks, I've noticed something different about you, and whatever it is… it's beautiful." I blink at him and he stops to let the words register. "Oliver's been… so weird these past few days that I've known you've needed to cry on someone's shoulder…" he sighs, "and in a really weird way… I'm glad you've come to me."

There is total silence in the common room.

"What… Cullen… what are you saying?" I stutter. I sincerely hope he's not telling me he's in love with me.

"That… I think I've… I think you're lovely, Katie." A tiny pause, I stare at him, not knowing what to say. "And seriously, Katie… you belong with him."

"Why does everyone keep telling me the same thing? '_You belong together, Katie', _or '_He's really worried about you! He must like you', _or '_Just go and snog him'…_" I stand up and towel my hand off, then look at Cullen, whose face is a picture of both panic and frustration. "Well, maybe I don't want to right now. Has nobody thought of that yet? Maybe, just maybe, in that impossible plane we call reality, I don't fancy him!" I shout, throwing my arms out wide and laughing hysterically. I think I've snapped, lost my mind completely. I'm lying through my teeth and fighting back tears, but it feels so good. "Does nobody understand me? Or am I speaking another language? Maybe I don't want to snog his face off… maybe, just maybe, there's someone else I want to be with… maybe none of you can see that Oliver and I simply aren't supposed to-"

"Be together." The other voice and mine combine across the common room and I spin around to see him standing there, staring at me, hopeless.

"Oliver-mate… I-" I start to stumble over my words but he shakes his head and steps towards me, the whole common room staring at us.

"Don't." He says, the soft, Scottish brogue making my heart melt as soon as I hear it in my ear. "Just… don't say anything. I think you've said enough."

He turns away but I grip his wrist and pull him back to me. The blood on his hand makes my grip slip and slide around his wrist, but I hold on even when he tries to pull away.

"Ollie, wait!" He stops and turns to me, the common room is still staring, still watching us. It might be midnight, but there are enough people for our discussion to be classed as "making a scene".

"Oliver…" I murmur, pulling him so close our noses are almost touching, "I think we need to talk."

**--**

**A/N… Oh! What's going to happen next?!**

**Maybe Oliver won't need to fix this. Maybe Katie has done something about it already!**

**Hope you enjoyed! **

**Please R&R!!**

xxx


	14. Room of Requirement & 6th Floor Corridor

**DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING YOU RECOGNISE IS JK Rowling's invention…**

**This switches between Oliver, Katie and back, this time… **

**Enjoy!**

--

Room Of Requirement 

Her words throw me, so much so that I follow her blindly to the room we use for DA sessions. She sits down on the squishy sofa that has been supplied for us by the supernatural room, and looks around awkwardly, hoping to be distracted. No such luck - there is very little else in the room.

"Oliver." She looks up at me suddenly. "Sit down." Then, as though she's taking back the order, the demand, she blushes pink and looks at me, smiling nervously, "please?"

Reluctantly, I take the seat beside her and watch her. She is clutching the patterned, red and gold cushion to her chest, blocking the space between her and me, creating a physical barrier between us. Chewing her lip and not quite meeting my eye.

"Katie." I say flatly. "You don't fancy me. What else is there to say? You don't have to explain a thing. I get it." she opens her mouth to say something but I have moved too fast for her to react. "It's OK, Katie." I rise and turn to leave, catching her steeling herself for something in the corner of my eye - she looks to the right, staring into the fire and taking a deep breath, holding it.

"Wait." I only stop in the doorway because I think she says it. I can't be sure. Half turning to go, but waiting there, I listen for a repetition of the word. "Oliver, wait." She half rises as I turn to face her, then sits down and folds her arms across her chest again.

"What?" it's only now that I realise our accents mingle as we talk - her Irish lilt, my Scottish accent, one quite soft, the other quite strong.

"I…" and she looks away again. "I didn't mean anything I said in the common room." She says quickly, still staring at the cold stone floor.

"From what I heard, you sounded pretty convicted." And she doesn't reply for about four minutes, just slowly raises her gaze from the floor, lets it travel up my jeans, across my jumper and the strip of fabric covering the awful scrawling that's now starting to throb, sending regular shooting pains through my hand.

"I-I… Oliver, please." She repeats. "Don't you understand?" A pause, "I-if you won't see what's in front of you… I won't be standing there much longer." She rises, blushing bright pink, and beats me to the door, running from the room, leaving me sitting in the room of requirement, staring after her.

Sixth Floor Corridor

I rub my eyes and throw myself into the passageway behind the tapestry, not wanting to face the common room again tonight. I lean against the wall and sob, not understanding what his problem is. I mean, honestly, how can he not see that… that I need him, and I want to tell him, but it's not as easy as it looks.

"If you love me," I hear, "Just let me know." and I almost laugh.

It was one of the first things he said to me, because we sat down at the House table together after being sorted in first year, then in our first lesson, I ended up next to him, and for days afterwards, we landed together in every lesson. He was joking when he said it, but it started to play on my mind, and I suppose, it has done ever since.

Awkwardly, I look up, expecting to see him standing there. Nothing. I am alone, and I hate it. Choking back another sob, I stand awkwardly and wipe my eyes, daring to venture out of the secret passageway and look left and right to make sure nobody sees me.

I step forward and start back towards the common room, keeping my head down and ensuring I'll not meet anyone's eye. It's that attempt at avoidance that leads me to walk straight into him. Surprised, I stumble backwards and land on my arse on the cold floor.

Still the Sixth Floor Corridor

She looks up at me, horrified.

"That-that never happened." She stutters awkwardly as she pulls herself to her feet. Hurriedly, she wipes her eyes and goes to push past me. I put my arm out, catching her across the chest.

"Katie," I say as she stops and looks up, into my eyes. There is a horrendous look of distance in her eyes, they are wide and watering - obviously, she has been crying, but they're also bluer than I've ever seen them before.

"What?" She whispers, still looking straight at me.

"Are you alright?" I breathe; she blushes and shakes her head. I switch into panic mode automatically. "What's wrong? You're hurt?" without allowing her to answer me, I pull her towards me and start dragging her towards the Hospital Wing, "Come on. I'm taking you to Madame Pomfrey." She yanks out of my grip suddenly and stares at me.

"Where did that come from?"

"What?"

"All this concern. You've been anything but for the past few days."

"What? Kat I've been more concerned for you these past few days than I've ever been before." She is still standing about three feet away from me, the pair of us standing opposite each other, out of the common room after hours. Suddenly, I realise this is how it should be.

"You've not shown it."

"I thought you could look after yourself." a pause, and I say those spiteful words, "Or Cullen could look after you."

Her mouth drops open, she stares at me, confused, and her mouth forms silent words I don't understand.

"Fine." She stutters, and turns on her heel, walks away.

I've done it again.

--

**A/N: Oh my, I'm sorry… I've started the argument all over again )**

**I'm sure there's a way to resolve it. **

**Oliver's jealous. How can we work this out? **

**Hope you enjoyed?! Please R&R**

**xxx**


	15. Gryffindor Common Room 2

**DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING YOU RECOGNISE IS JK Rowling's invention…**

**Katie's POV!**

**Enjoy!**

--

Gryffindor Common Room

I run to the Gryffindor girls bathroom for an hour and a half and simply sit there and weep, thinking of all the things I probably should have said, replaying the conversation in the Room of Requirement over and over again, twisting the words until they sound awful, sound horrible, terrible, like it's all my fault.

At about three o'clock in the morning, Alicia comes into the tiles room and softly calls my name. Reluctantly, I open the cubicle door and look at her. It is only then that I realise I am still in my robes, my hair still in its bun, everything the same.

"Katie? What… happened?" She says, incredulous at my tears and sobbing. "Oliver again?"

"How do you know?" my voice is hollow, hoarse from an hour and a half of tears.

"Because he's sitting in the common room, staring into the fire, frozen." my ears prick up and I stare at her.

"What?" Flat tone returns, the hoarseness abating.

"Oliver. Remorse, depression, _frowny face_…" she says the latter slowly, pouting largely for emphasis, knowing that at three in the morning, I am hardly going to be co-operative or intellectually capable.

"No… he can't be…" I start, rising quickly and waving my wand to change myself from robes to pyjamas, then striding down into the common room, where, true to Lycia's word, he is sitting there, staring into the fire, unmoving.

I stand there, watching him for a minute or so, he runs his hand through his perpetually messy brown hair and sighs, seemingly preparing himself to go off to bed. When he rises, turns to go up the stairs to the boys dormitories, he sees me and jumps about a foot into the air.

"Katie?!" He stutters, "Wh-what… I thought you'd gone to bed?" More of a question than a statement.

"I've been sitting in the toilets, crying." I say simply.

"All this time?" His tone is that of genuine concern, guilt and remorse.

"An hour and a half." Laughing hollowly, we stand, looking at each other, unmoving.

"I'm sorry." He says the words as I do. "Hang on-what-you…" I hold up my hand to stop him and half smile.

"It's… Oliver, it's my fault." I whisper. He shakes his head and holds out his hand, I take it and he pulls me towards him, so we are standing right in front of each other, staring into each other's eyes.

"I-I shouldn't have… it's my fault." we repeat the same thing over and over, it's first my fault, then his, then mine. Neither of us wants the other to take the blame.

"Oliver." I say simply as he tries to tell me it's his fault for the thirty-ninth time. "Maybe we're both to blame?"

We look at each other and grin. This is just like us being best friends again, like today and yesterday had never happened.

"I've spent the past hour and a half thinking of things I should have said two hours ago." He says suddenly, as we both go to sit down on the comfiest sofa in the centre of the room. I look at him and cock my head, uncertain.

"Ollie?" I offer, trying to goad him into speaking.

"I've spent an hour and a half trying to figure out how to tell you I fancy you and I just jumped to conclusions about Cullen and… I just… I mean it got ridiculous, really quickly." he breathes out, looking at the floor to avoid looking me in the eye and waiting for me to hit him, or some such.

"I know. I should have just come out with it, when you started being all… I should have noticed." I whisper, he frowns and looks at me, confused.

"Noticed what?"

"That for once, what you said, when you said you didn't want to lose me," I look down, tears springing up as the realisation hits me, "all that stuff you said… being worried for me…" he conjures a box of tissues as I sniff loudly and hands me one. "It's because you really did care."

"I _told_ you!" He yelps triumphantly but childishly, "Why didn't you believe me?" he says softly, the hurt in his voice more than obvious. "You know… I love you." And this time, he says the words with conviction, honesty, rather than that slightly reflexive reply you usually get between friends. I smile back at him, reaching up to brush against his jaw line, brushing my thumb across his cheek.

"I think I do, Oliver." I whisper, "And I really wish I'd seen it sooner."

--

**A/N: Awwwww!!**

**Please don't break my face for stopping it there. I have a bit I really want to write into this and I think it's best to stop it here… or it'll get complicated. **

**Don't worry either - we're nowhere near the end, even though they are closer than ever. **

**Hope you enjoyed?! **

**Please R&R**

**xxx**


	16. Stairway

**DISCLAIMER: Cullen is my OC. The Rest of the things you recognise - people, places, are _still _JK Rowling's. **

**I'm really sorry it's really short...**

**Enjoy!**

--

Stairway

I stand, watching them from the shadows, not hearing her words as she leans forward, kisses his cheek and rises. I choke on a breath as he pulls her back to him, into his arms. She pushes him away gently, unwilling to kiss him on the mouth just yet.

She rises again, repeats the goodnight kiss on his cheek and leaves up the staircase to the girl's dormitory.

He smiles triumphantly to himself and suddenly I want to be sick. He doesn't deserve her. For the past three days, he has hardly been civil, hardly polite, not spoken a sentence to her, while she has been pouring her heart out to him, trying to tell him.

I've had to stand by and watch her cry, wanting to tell her how _I _feel, but at the same time knowing that she would never look at me twice. She's Oliver's. There's no other way about it, I know I won't change it, but I wish I could.

As quietly as possible, I return to my dormitory and lay on the scarlet duvet on my four-poster. I have never wanted to cry so much. I want to hit him; I want to kick a wall. I want to do so much, but I guess there is nothing I can do.

While I'm sitting, mourning her happiness, I hear him creep into the dorm room and throw himself down on his bed, clearly at this moment the happiest person alive.

"Cullen." His voice whispers through the gloom. I'm not going to answer. I'm asleep, as far as he knows. "Oi, Cullen!" I get a pillow thrown in my face; I jack-knife into an upright position. Ergo, I have to acknowledge him.

"Hmm? What?!" I rub my eyes and look at him through the gloom. "It's five in the morning."

"Sorry, mate," But I know he's not, "b-but Katie's talking to me again!" His grin lights the room without a literal light, "It's brilliant!"

"Yeah, mate. Let me sleep will you?" I turn over, face away from him, and blink away the image of her kissing his cheek.

"But, Cullen-" There is a moment of silence. "Alright mate. I'll tell you in the morning." I don't reply. I really don't think I can force the words from my lips, because anything I say will be horrible, cruel and unnecessary.

I lay there for hours, thinking. I know there's nothing I can do. There's no way I can change what has happened, I'll accept it and move on. I'll try and move on. Katie and Oliver are my best friends. I should be happy for them. It's funny though.

I'm not.

--

**A/N. I know it was short, I know it was depressing and bad, but you know…**

**I thought you could play "Guess the POV"… in case you didn't (though, you know I know you did), it was Cullen ) **

**Hope you enjoyed,**

**Please R&R!!**

**xxx**


	17. Free Period

**DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING YOU RECOGNISE IS JK Rowling's invention…**

**Oliver's POV!**

**Enjoy!**

--

Free Period

I sit opposite her, my Potions homework abandoned on the grass beside me, my eyes drawn to her as she flicks her hair from her face, rubs her eyes and groans, placing her quill into her bag and looking up at me.

"What's up?"

"I'm bored." She yawns, looking over at Cullen and Alicia, who have their heads together, working on their Arithmancy homework. She sits up straight suddenly and grins evilly. "_Aguamenti_" She flicks her wand at the pair, the jet of water hits them square in the back and they jump up, Cullen laughing, Alicia shrieking to high heaven.

"Oi!" He yells over as he shakes his hair dry and runs a hand through it, still smiling, "Was that necessary?!"

"'Course it was!" She launches back, rising to her feet. "Duel?"

"Certainly." He draws his wand and bites his lip to stop laughing. "_En Garde_…"

"_Aguamenti_!" Katie flicks her wand again; more water hits Cullen in the face. She giggles and he huffs, trying to think of a spell good enough to retaliate with. Suddenly, it hits him, and I don't just mean another jet of cold water.

"_Tarantellegra_!" he counters, she dodges it and hits him with the water again, and the pair of them fall about laughing. I smile as she comes and joins me again, picking up the potions homework beside me and leaning her head on my shoulder and curling up against me. She sighs happily as she unfurls the

"Hmm…" she pulls her glasses from her pocket and slips them onto her face, scanning my potions work for any incorrect measurements or spellings. "I think you're pretty much there," She says, and as she looks up at me, I notice the colour of her frames have settled on a pretty dark pink - the same colour as a Valentines Day card. "You'll need to change - what're you staring at?" I blink and shake the paralysis from my brain.

"Your glasses," I say without thinking, "They're pink. What mood are you in?"

"Pink?!" She looks at me, then pulls them from her face and holds them in her hand. They slowly change from pink to orange. "Well… orange is confusion." She says softly, "I know that." there is a slight shift and it turns a pinkish red. "I'll need to check the parchment that came with them…" She says.

"But what mood are you in? Surely that would tell you?" I say, catching her wrist as she rises and goes to get the stuff from her dormitory.

"I… I'm with you." She stutters as she considers it, "I suppose there's not really a mood… as such." Then she pauses and looks down at her feet, then back at me, a confused frown on her face. The glasses on her face are now bright orange. "Give me a minute." She disappears for about twenty seconds and returns with the parchment.

"How did you-"

"Charmed the window open, used a summoning charm. You know. Simple stuff." She half smiles and closes her eyes, then opens them again, unfurling the parchment as she does so. The sheet rolls down to her waist and she uses her finger to run down the list and find the colour, then looks up at me, a bright, embarrassed blush across her face.

"Well?"

"Well what?" She avoids my question and looks over at Alicia and Cullen, the glasses on her face turning white when she looks at Cullen and Blue when she looks at Alicia.

"Well, what's Pink?" I pause, "And what are white and blue?" I add as an afterthought, because I am suddenly interested in how she feels towards the others.

"White is gratefulness. Blue is…" She checks and smiles, "A desire to laugh, to join in. Energy." She smiles and sits down beside me, takes my hand and awkwardly runs her thumb across the back of it, across the words etched deep into my skin from last night. "Forget those words," She whispers as she looks at me again, "You know that chivalry is all we can hope for in times like these." A sudden downturn in the conversation, I must admit.

"Wh-" She leans forward and kisses my cheek, so close to my lips it almost hurts.

"Pink… is love." She whispers embarrassedly as she pulls away, her hand finding the back of my neck and touching it so softly it makes me shiver. She smiles, the pink of her glasses matching the pink of her cheeks. "And I'm with you."

--

**A/N... and they think it's all over... But it's not! **

**(I'm hedging there will be two more chapters. i'm not sure. It just depends if you want to read on)**

**Bet you didn't think there'd be a return of the glasses? **

**Cackles evilly**

**Hope you enjoyed? **

**Please R&R and Let me Know**

**xxx**


End file.
